Isis Orb

by Piers Anthony

  “Uh-oh,” Nya said. “The beast stirs.”

  Indeed, it seemed that the griffin had spied them. He spread his wings and launched into the air. In no more than three scant moments, or two and a half generous ones, he was swooping down on them. The creature was huge, the size of a centaur, with each of the six heads looking more vicious than the others.

  They scattered, taking cover wherever it offered. Hapless got under a rather prickly bush.

  The griffin flew on by, leaving only a six-throated screech behind. Evidently he was merely assessing the situation. But there was no doubt he was the one they were after, because the faint sparkle of the path tracked his motions.

  “So now he knows we’re after him,” Feline said, reappearing from behind a small tree. “And he doesn’t like it.”

  “No element of surprise,” Zed agreed.

  “Uh-oh,” Nya repeated. “Now the Region is reacting.”

  “Reacting?” Hapless asked.

  A stiff gust of wind caught him in a buffet, almost knocking him off his feet. More winds followed. A storm was brewing.

  “The Region of Air features wind,” Faro said. “We’re in for a blow.”

  “Does the Region care about what we’re after?” Hapless asked.

  “In a way. You never can be sure, with the inanimate.”

  “We’d better get under cover before it blows us away.” That was not much of an exaggeration.

  They hurried on toward the craggy mountain. The wind picked up until Hapless could hardly keep his feet, and he saw that even the centaurs were having some difficulty. Only the serpentine dragons were handling it, being too low to the ground to give the wind much purchase.

  “Found something,” Nya called. “Cave entrance.”

  “But is it safe?” Feline asked.

  “Surely for dragons. We’ll explore it first.”

  The two dragons disappeared into the ground, while Hapless, Feline, and the two centaurs huddled at the entrance.

  Soon they returned. “The cave is clear, but it may not be safe,” Nya reported. “It’s a wind tunnel.”

  “A what?” Hapless asked.

  “A tunnel for wind. It is actually a straight hole in the hill, no dips or curves, no obstructions. Flying creatures can test their abilities there, as the wind increases. When the wind velocity exceeds their ability, they get blown out. They can practice, learning to fly more strongly. But it’s not good for us, as the wind velocity will increase to tornado force and blow us out too. We would become projectiles, smacking into something and getting battered or killed.”

  “But we have to get out of this storm!” Indeed, the wind was still increasing.

  “There may be a way,” Zed said. “We two centaurs are massive enough to block the ends of the tunnel, so the rest of you could get shelter within it until the storm blows over.”

  “Let’s do it!”

  Zed placed himself at the tunnel entrance, and Faro went to the exit. Zed lay down across the entrance, cutting off the wind there. They made their way to the other end, where Faro made way for them to pass her, then lay across it as Zed had. She folded her wings tightly to prevent wind eddy currents from tugging at their feathers. The wind tunnel was quiet, perhaps for the first time in eons.

  It was a relief to be out of the howl. Nya and Quin assumed their naga and harpy forms so they could talk. “We are operating as a team, again,” Feline said. “Helping each other to get along.”

  “Each episode brings us closer together,” Nya said. “But it’s no guarantee that we will complete the Quest successfully.”

  Time passed, but the storm did not abate. “This is not getting us closer to winning the Totem,” Quin said.

  “We are pinned here waiting for a storm to pass,” Nya said. “But suppose it doesn’t pass? This is after all the Region of Air.”

  There it was. “This tunnel may be a trap,” Hapless said. “Not in the sense of getting ambushed by a monster, but because we can’t stay here forever. I fear we’ll have to get out and brave the storm after all.”

  “I fear you’re right,” Quin said. “But we’ll need a plan.”

  “A plan?”

  “You have to get close enough to the griffin to enchant him with your music. I have to be close enough to you so that you can play well enough. That storm seems to be making both impossible. You can’t fly nearly as well as the griffin in this wind, and if you’re high in the air, I can’t be near you. Just blundering along won’t do.”

  “Good thinking,” Feline said. “So let’s work out the plan.”

  There was a silence. No one had a plan.

  Hapless realized that it was up to him, again. He did not regard himself as a strategist, but he had to come up with something. Only his creative mind was blank.

  “Think outside the box,” Feline reminded him.

  If thinking inside the box meant having Quin pursue the griffin and not catching him, and not being able to play music competently if he did catch him, that was certainly a losing strategy. But what else was there? If they didn’t pursue the griffin they would never catch him, and if Quin couldn’t catch him, how could Hapless help? Herding was out of the question in this environment. The whole thing seemed to be a loss. Were they going to have to give up?

  Give up? That was no good. Yet the thought gave him a faint glimmer of a notion that hovered just outside his range. What was it?

  “Too bad we can’t make the griffin come to us,” Nya said. “Then we could nab him.”

  The bulb lit. “Come to us!” Hapless said. “If we can’t chase the griffin, we can make the griffin chase us.”

  “And do what—eat us?” Feline asked.

  “He’d have trouble eating two dragons, even with those six heads,” Nya said. “He’s not going to come to us. He’ll just stay away from us until we give up and go away.”

  “That’s what he hopes,” Hapless said. “But he’s thinking inside the box.”

  The three others looked at him. “Maybe you’re a bit too far outside the box for us to follow,” Quin said.

  “Here it is,” Hapless said. “Even the griffin must get tired fighting the wind in this stormy Region. That’s why he has his nest in the crags: where he can safely rest between storms. He’s probably up there now, since we’re no threat to him, trapped down here under the storm.”

  “I follow you so far,” Feline said. “So why should he come down to us?”

  “Because Quin will fly up to the nest, playing his accordion. The griffin knows he can’t stay there for that. So he’ll fly away, leaving Quin with nothing.”

  “Exactly,” Quin agreed. “And even if he stayed, I would not be able to charm him, since you would still be down here underground.”

  “That does seem to make sense,” Nya said.

  “So where’s the catch?” Feline asked Hapless.

  “Well, Quin will doggedly pursue him around and around the Region of Air, through the storm. He won’t be as fast as the griffin, especially carrying the accordion, so there’s really nothing to worry about. Finally the griffin will tire of the chase and return to the nest to rest. Quin will follow him there. At which point the griffin, fed up with this stupid game, will launch into the air, ready to bite Quin half a dozen times in a single lunge.”

  “While I’m trying to play a useless accordion,” Quin agreed. “This is suicide. He’ll eat me for dinner.”

  “No,” Hapless said. “He will be mesmerized, and when you touch him he’ll compact into the Totem, and it will be done.”

  They looked at him again. “Is there perhaps a detail you omitted?” Nya asked.

  Hapless considered. “Oh. Maybe there is. It is that I will be up near the nest, having climbed the crag while you distracted the griffin with your clumsy chase. So when he attacks you, your music will get him.”

  They considered that. “You have a way to reach the nest on your own?” Feline inquired.

  “I hope to have Nya’s help. Naga can climb we
ll, can’t they?”

  “We can,” Nya agreed. “But you’re human, not another naga.”

  “But you should be able to ferret out a feasible route, and help me navigate it.”

  “Maybe. But this is highly chancy. You could fall and kill yourself.”

  “It’s well outside the box,” Hapless agreed.

  They considered again. “Maybe we could rope the two of you together,” Feline said. “So that when you fall, she can catch you, as it were.”

  “But it just maybe possibly might work,” Quin said dubiously.

  “Which is a better chance than the box offers,” Hapless said.

  “I wonder,” Quin said. “Would the height make you nervous?”

  “Oh, yes,” Hapless agreed. “I dread it with something between fear and terror. Riding Faro was easy, but climbing a windswept snowy ledge is something else.”

  “But?”

  “But it’s something I think I had better try.”

  “This would require considerable nerve,” Nya said.

  “I think the word is gumption,” Feline said. “Hapless may not be the smartest, strongest, boldest, or luckiest man extant, but he’s surely the gumptionest.”

  “Thank you for that vote of confidence,” Hapless said.

  “You’re welcome, you idiot.” She kissed him on the ear.

  “Then let’s move out,” Hapless said, emboldened by the gesture. “We have to get to the base of the mountain.”

  “While I distract the griffin,” Quin said. “Conjure me my accordion, please.”

  Hapless did. Quin put it on, then changed to dragon form, which was better for flying. He growled, and it sounded like “I’m ready. I hope.”

  They moved to the end of the tunnel. “We’re coming out,” Feline called. “We have a Plan.”

  “The storm is unabated,” Faro said. “I can’t fly in this; it’s dangerous.” Indeed, her hair and mane were flying across her face, obscuring her vision, and the wind was so strong it wouldn’t be safe for her to open her wings. They were tightly clamped to her body, acting like a partial cloak.

  “Stay on the ground,” Quin said, resuming harpy form for a moment. “I’m the only one flying at the moment. I’m more sinuous.” He reverted to dragon, except for his arms, which remained to clasp the accordion. It looked awkward, but he seemed to know what he was doing.

  “And me,” Nya said. “I will try to bolster you.” She shifted to her dragon form.

  “I fear this is mischief,” Faro said.

  “You and I both,” Feline said. “But our air-headed leader is determined. We need to get to that mountain.”

  Zed joined them, having seen them emerge. “Nya and I will try to shield you,” he said. “Stay between us, and hang on, those of you with hands.”

  Hapless and Feline wedged between the two centaurs and grabbed hold of manes. That did seem to lend some stability. Then the centaurs stepped forward together. It was working. For one step.

  Meanwhile the two dragons faced into the wind and spread their wings. They were immediately pushed backwards, not forwards. Then they rose into the air, actually flying backwards. Both Hapless and Feline stared.

  “It’s not as backwards as it looks,” Faro explained. “The wind is in effect providing their forward speed. They are flying in its current to gain elevation. Then they’ll turn and ride it. It’s not something I would care to try, but they’ll be all right as long as they maintain their balance and orientation. Their serpentine torsos can’t be broadsided as readily as my equine body can be.”

  Sure enough, in another windblown moment the two dragons tilted and veered rapidly to the side, suddenly gaining speed. In another quarter of a moment they were out of sight.

  Now the storm, as if sensing that something was up, intensified another notch. Rain spattered, then thickened. But the centaurs moved on. Fortunately the wind was now coming from the direction of the mountain, as if determined to blow them away from it. They all ducked their heads and plowed on.

  The rain became a drench-pour. Visibility was cut to two body lengths, then one. The ground became muddy. They kept moving.

  The rain became hail, which peppered their hides. It stung, but Hapless squinched his mouth and eyes closed and kept moving.

  “Too bad Nya isn’t here,” Feline gasped. “She could use her Totem to melt the ice.”

  The storm, as if seeing that this wasn’t working, shifted to sand. It became a sandstorm, blasting abrasively at their skin. They shoved on.

  The sand mounded before them, becoming a dune that threatened to bury them.

  “But I am here,” Zed said. He focused on the mound, and it shook, forming cracks, and the sand drained into the fissures opening in the ground.

  There was an angry howl as the wind was balked. But sand and ground were in the province of Earth, and Air could not override that.

  They trudged on, trusting that their direction was correct, or that the centaurs could orient on the mountain despite the poor visibility. Their trust was vindicated; they came to the base of the mountain, and soon found a measure of shelter in a wind-carved grotto. The scream of the wind as it cut around the sharp edges was almost painful; it knew it was being balked.

  Hapless spit out sand. “Next step: scale the mountain.”

  “Oh,” Feline said. “You were going to have Nya help you climb, but she forgot; she’s helping Quin fly.”

  “That’s right,” Hapless said. “I always mess up the details.”

  “Maybe I can help you. Cats are good climbers.”

  “Feline, I’d love to have your company. But I don’t think you can do this, and you might get hurt. I’d hate that.”

  Then a shape loomed out of the swirl. It was Nya. She plowed into the sand beyond the grotto, then slithered into it. “Almost forgot!” she exclaimed.

  “But what about Quin?” Feline asked.

  “He’s handling the wind and heading for the griffin’s nest. The griffin will have to move. We know how that should play out. Now what is more important is to get you up near the nest without being observed.”

  “What if the griffin sees him?”

  “That’s mischief. I’ll try to protect him, but that griffin is probably more than my match.”

  “So Hapless better not get seen.”

  “Yes. With luck Quin will be able to distract the griffin long enough.”

  “Are you sure you want to try this, Hapless?” Faro asked. “We can ponder alternatives.”

  “Not at all sure,” Hapless admitted. “But I think I’d better try it, all the same. The path leads up the mountain. You can still ponder alternatives, in case I don’t make it.”

  “Ah yes, the path. It shows the way and you follow it. Is that courage?”

  “I don’t think so. I just have a job to do, so I’m doing it.”

  “Gumption,” Feline repeated.

  “Then let’s get to it. I’ll try to find you good footing if I can.”

  “Thank you.”

  Nya slid out of the grotto and up the steep slope of the rock outside. Her naga form was good for this; her snaky belly had traction.

  Hapless tried to follow, bracing against the wind, but immediately discovered problems. His hands and feet found no purchase on the rock, and the wind quickly blew him aside when he tried to climb. This was no good at all. If he had this much trouble at the base, how would it be at the top?

  He conjured a guitar with picks for his fingers. He put on the picks and let the guitar blow away in the wind, jangling as it went. He set his hands against the rock, and the picks dug in just enough make it possible for him to climb. He might not be able to make music with them, but scraping rock worked. His shoes did cling reasonably well.

  “It’s better up here,” Nya called back from beyond the outcrop.

  Hapless made it to a kind of ledge that formed a narrow ridge. The path followed that. It was indeed better. But when he looked back, the path was gone; he would not be able to retur
n the way he came, because he would not be able to remember all the details. Well, that was something to worry about later.

  They continued on in a rough spiral around the mountain. It was not a big mountain, and before long they were on the second loop, well above the first. Hapless was getting used to clinging to the rock; the wind could not really get at him as long as he remained in the crevice.

  “Uh-oh,” Nya muttered.

  He did not like the sound of that. “What is it?”

  “Traffic.”

  “Uh—”

  “Caterpillar. A large one. Harmless to us. Evidently up here to graze on the high mountain lichen.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “We’re in its track.”

  Now he saw the caterpillar heading toward them on its myriad little legs. It was about the size of a Mundane bus, its surface green, its antennae reaching forward. The track was the only place it could walk. If they didn’t get clear of its route, they would likely be bulldozed off the track and the mountain. “We’d better get out of its way.”

  “Yes. But this is not a convenient spot to leave the path.”

  Hapless looked to his right, where the rock fed into a drop-off of lethal height. Then to his left, where the wall rose almost straight up. Inconvenient was a fair understatement. “Can I climb over it?”

  “No. Its skin is poisonous, as a discouragement to predators.”

  “Then I guess we’ll have to back off to a widening where we can let it pass.”

  “That will cost time. You need to get close to the nest before nightfall. Quin is not a good night flier.”

  “You have a better idea?”

  “Yes. I will hook onto the ledge above this one, and stretch down to help you get off the path for long enough. When it passes, you can drop back onto the path.”

  “This looks precarious.”

  “It is. You will have to trust me.”

  “I trust you. I’m just not sure how this will work. I don’t see how you can scale that cliff.”

  Nya smiled, and shifted to dragon form. She flew up off the path, climbed to the upper ridge, landed on it, and changed back. Then she hooked her tail over the ridge and let her body slide down across the cliff toward him. She reached her arms down. “Catch my hands.”